


Whirl Tries to Help

by ultharkitty



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-14
Updated: 2013-10-14
Packaged: 2017-12-29 09:37:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1003837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ultharkitty/pseuds/ultharkitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the wake of First Aid's actions, Whirl tries to help. </p><p>Contains major spoilers for MTMTE #21, angst.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whirl Tries to Help

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jarakrisafis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jarakrisafis/gifts).



The anger came as a flood. It had risen to engulf him, only to leave all in a rush, draining fast in the wake of Pharma's death. 

First Aid sat hunched on his slab, head down, hands dangling between his knees. His door was locked, his comms muted. Every hour or so someone knocked, a voice called to him: Ratchet, Chromedome, Tailgate. They cared, and it hurt that they cared. He was a murderer, he had violated his primary function; there was nothing they could do for him now.

His joints stiffened. He should flex, but he didn't feel like moving. It hit him anew with every cycle of his vents, every sharp contraction of his spark: he had ended a life. He had taken the law into his own hands, had channelled his grief and his rage and his stupid selfish fantasies of heroism, and had deliberately ended a life. 

His optics flickered, his shoulders sagged. Heavy and over-warm, he thought about coolant, about lying down for recharge. His chin dropped; he'd sit here just a while more. His vision blurred, fading softly to black then coming back with a start. No recharge, not yet. He had so much thinking to do.

"You did the right thing."

He must have dropped off. There was someone with him, someone sitting on the slab. Someone warm and large, swinging their feet, fidgeting. 

First Aid groaned and tried to straighten. He eased himself upright, rolling the ache from his joints. Rubbing his visor, he looked to the door. How had Whirl got in here?

"Heard you weren't talking to anyone," Whirl said. "So I broke in. Hacked the lock. Don't worry, I locked it again. It's just you and me."

First Aid shook his head. "I... Please go."

"Nope." Whirl sat back on his haunches, still swinging his legs. "So you killed a guy," he said. "You know it was the right thing to do."

"Doesn't make it any better," First Aid said, and his voice cracked. 

Whirl tapped him on the shoulder. "Actually," he said. "It does. It makes it way better. He killed that guy, didn't he, that doctor you were always hanging around with?"

First Aid took a shuddering vent. "Ambulon," he said. "Yes."

"And he killed a load of other people. And he enjoyed it."

"Yes."

"And he was a traitor in league with the DJD and that Tyrest freak, and he was crazy. The bad kind of crazy, not like my kind of crazy. The evil kind." Whirl slung an arm around him. "Face it, you did the universe a favour."

First Aid hid his face in his hands. 

"Hey, don't be like that. You blew his head off, it was _awesome_."

If there were words for what he'd done, awesome was not one of them. First Aid cringed, and tried in vain to stop himself from shaking.

"It ain't right," Whirl said, and there was something brittle in his voice, something that resonated with the maelstrom in First Aid's spark. "You shouldn't have all these _feelings_. You killed him, he deserved it." 

First Aid's voice was muffled by his hands. "Changes nothing."

"Changes everything," Whirl said. "I'm a bad person. I'm a good guy, but I'm a bad person. You know how I _know_ I'm a bad person?" He didn't wait for a reply. "It's cause I like it too. Just like him. I like killing, I'm good at it. It's a thrill. Bet you didn't get a thrill. Bet it was like dropping hot lead in your spark."

Dragging in air, First Aid uncurled enough to nod.

"You're a good guy," Whirl said. "And you're a good person. Sad combination. You know what Springer told me once?"

First Aid looked up.

"After my first mission, he told me it gets easier." Whirl cocked his head, and it was impossible to tell if he was recounting a memory or just saying what he thought First Aid needed to hear. The fact he made the effort was like a knife to the chest.

"I don't want it to get easier," First Aid said, and Whirl laughed.

"Sure you don't. But you're not crying any more. You ready to go on out there, face your adoring public? Swerve's is open, I'm buying."

First Aid glanced at the door. "No." 

Whirl shifted, and First Aid waited for him to leave. But instead, he tucked one leg up onto the slab, and produced a packet of energon treats. "OK," he said. "Then I guess we're staying in."


End file.
